The Pickpocket Girl
by BloomAmber
Summary: She likes being alone. She is, after all, the best pickpocket girl ever. Or so she tells herself. Then, one pickpocket trick goes wrong, and she's suddenly visiting Halifax for the holidays with overly cheery Darien, who's wiggling his way into her heart.
1. Picking pockets is easy, or so I thought

**A/N:** _So, I don't usually start a story before I finish another one, but I've been taking a break from Elf Dawned for a little while just to collect ideas and make sure I don't finish it off sloppy. But the holidays are here and I couldn't help it. So far I've been able to write most of this story out. I think that I'm maybe two or three chapters away from finishing this story off. Basically, it's very short, but I hope you all like it. Happy New Years Eve. I hope you all have a very great 2012 with lots of writing and books!_

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Sailor Moon or anything to do with it. This story is a figment of my imagination._

**Summery:**_ She likes being alone. She is, after all, the best pickpocket girl ever. Or so she tells herself. Then, one pickpocket trick goes wrong, and she's suddenly visiting Halifax for the holidays with overly cheery Darien. And she learns the hard way that getting under his skin is not easy, but he seems to be doing a great job getting under hers and into her heart.  
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><p><strong>The Pickpocket Girl<br>**

**Chapter 1**

I loved this time of year. Well, I loved and hated it. I loved it because it was almost always crowded everywhere, so picking pockets was easy. People, I find, tend to be more careless. They're caught up in the excitement, the grandness, the spirit, the distractions, they wouldn't notice if you bulldozed over them. Twice.

I hated it because it was cold. You can't go out without freezing to death. Mornings were fine – I could coup up in some big mall somewhere and collect. It was the nights that bugged me. Not only did I have to put up with the filth and rot and the cold, but also the dirty looks. It made you feel like scum, especially when you heard the famous "Don't look her directly in the eyes, Johny boy" line from the fretting mothers of the world. Sometimes I start yelling at them. Most times I let it go. No sense in fighting a battle you've already lost. And I kind of hate the fact that pepper spray is so high in demand and stings so much. But that's hypocritical of me, since I usually have a bottle in my coat. You never know who's out there at night that's bigger and stronger.

I also learned pretty quickly that sleeping at night isn't really for me anymore. Better to be standing and alert, pretending to browse stores for some heat and looking like you belong. In the mornings I get some sleep once the mall opens. You don't know how far a pair of sunglasses, a bench, and an overnight bag will go. Yes, a silent figure forever waits for her father, who will never show up. A teenager who's ride is an eternity late. A girl who needs some change for the bus she won't be taking. It's amazing how much those lines work. After a couple of "excuse me, do you have change for the bus?" lines, I have enough for some breakfast or lunch. Most people complain about the cost for the bus. I love it.

Right now, I'm standing behind some tall guy with black hair and an expensive-looking coat with deep pockets. Easy enough, if I get the right pocket. Otherwise, I hit keys and I've got enough of those to last a lifetime.

Suddenly, he moves. I follow him with my eyes.

"No, Drew, I'm just saying that I think you're spending too long searching for a gift for her. She'll love anything you get her. Except, you know, tampons or bathroom junk…" he laughs heartily, a rich, deep sound that reminds me of hot coffee in the morning.

"You know I'm just teasing you. Yeah, I know, you learned your lesson from that first time. Well, everyone knows that you don't get a girl- no. No I haven't. What? You forgot again? Alright, where are you?" I watch as he takes out his wallet from the right pocket and rifles through some cash. Loads of cash. My eyes bulge. Bingo.

"Yeah, I think I have enough." He goes to the cashier and picks out a candy bar, putting it on the checkout lane for her to scan. He hangs up on whoever he was talking to, and pays for the bar with some change, then leaves.

I curse and turn to follow him, when a 'friendly' saleslady shows up, barricading the exit. Soon enough, I've lose sight of the wealthy guy with the odd sense of humor.

"And how are you enjoying our sales today? May I help you find anything?" In other words, buy something or get out.

I smile politely at her. "Yes, actually, I was wondering where the maroon sweater with the elephant playing volleyball with some monkeys went. I saw one in here last week, but I can't seem to find it today."

Her smiling lips twitched. "I'm afraid we don't have anything like that in here."

"Oh, are you sure? But I saw it here last week. Can you check your database?"

Again, her lips twitched. "I'll see if I can find it."

She led me to the back of the store where an ancient computer hooked to a pillar was blinking festive pictures back and forth. She moved the cruiser so the computer blinked to life, and began typing. Silently, I slipped away and grinned to myself. By now, the guy was long gone, thanks to her, so I hope that she has fun searching for the non-existent sweater.

I left the store, backpack slung over my shoulder and whistling, but stopped dead in my tracks. There he was, checking the store map.

I laughed with relief and giddiness. It's the greatest time of year, indeed.

The guy turned and looked about him, as if trying to figure out which direction was the right one. I was surprised to find that despite his wide shoulders and great height, he was probably not much older than I was.

But then, what did I know? I was just a very successful street kid.

He began to move, and I followed silently, stopping every now and then to stare down and act inconspicuous. I wonder how he got all that cash. Probably had rich parents, is my guess.

Suddenly, he stopped and turned into one of the stores. I followed him in.

If I was going to do this, I should do it now. When his friend shows up, that would only increase the risk of being found out. That happened once, and I got out lucky. With this guy, I'd never know.

I sped up my pace until I was right behind him. Pretending to look through some… uh… was that… oh God, ok, focus. I backed up some steps until I actually bumped into him. At the same time, I reached into his right pocket and gasped when I grasped air. Where was it?

"Hey, are you okay – are you trying to pickpocket me?"

I was so shocked I had removed my hand from his pocket clumsily, and somehow got tangled up in it. "Uh, no."

"It looks like you are. And I saw you in that other shop, too. What are you up to? Where's your mom?" He stared down at me, and I stared back up at his midnight blues. If I had learned anything, looking away would make me seem like an amateur. And I wasn't. But it was hard to stare into his eyes. They made me feel weak.

I glared at him to hide it. I got it – I looked young. But he was treating me like a 10-year-old. Never mind the fact that my best solution to this problem right now would be to kick him in the shins and make a mad dash into hiding.

"Dead," I said. "And I wasn't pickpocketing you." An obvious lie, but it came out sounding convincing. I was a master at lies.

"Yeah, right. So what are you doing on the street? Shouldn't you be in some orphanage?"

Again, I glared. "I'm nineteen."

He smirked. "Yeah, right. No, but seriously who am I calling to come pick you up?"

Kicking shins and running sounded pretty good right about now. Instead, I turned and walked away with the dignity I had left. Things could have gone worse – a lot worse. This guy was too confident and didn't even seem shaken by the fact that he almost lost all the cash he had on him.

Twenty minutes later I was sitting on my bench. I had found a quarter in a vending machine. Today wasn't a great day for me. I reached into my pocket to count the change I had managed to collect, and was surprised when I felt paper. I pulled out a ten dollar bill and stared at it. What had…?

I unfolded it and watched as a small note fell out from in between the crisply folded bill. I picked it up and read it.

_Dear Pickpocket girl,_

_I should advice you that you need more practice before you get into close-contact pickpocketing. There are always backpacks, and those are easier to pick than a pocket. Here's some money. Buy yourself something useful. I trust you don't do drugs._

_Sincerely, Darien._

_P.S; Am I good at this, or am I good? This is how it's done, kiddo. Learn from the master._

**TBC**

**A/N:**_ Enjoy, you guys! I'll try to update tomorrow, too. Review, and please have a very happy and safe New Years Eve!  
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	2. The psycho's taking me to Halifax!

**A/N:** _2012! The year of the dragon. Whooww guys, I did NOT expect this story to be popular, but it turns out a lot of you like the concept. I hope I don't disappoint with the upcoming chapters! And boy, a lot of you mentioned some other stories with a similar theme. I didn't realize there were so many. Three for Sailor moon alone as far as I'm aware. Maybe four? I plan to read all of them eventually. Well, nothing left to say except Happy New Year!  
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**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Sailor Moon or anything to do with it. This story is a figment of my imagination._

**Summery:**_ She likes being alone. She is, after all, the best pickpocket girl ever. Or so she tells herself. Then, one pickpocket trick goes wrong, and she's suddenly visiting Halifax for the holidays with overly cheery Darien. And she learns the hard way that getting under his skin is not easy, but he seems to be doing a great job getting under hers and into her heart.  
><em>

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><p><strong>The Pickpocket Girl<strong>

**Chapter 2**

It was six o'clock in the morning, and I felt drowsy. It was almost my bed time. I was at the start of my rounds again. People get suspicious when a figure walks around all day in a mall without buying anything every day. They get used to seeing you. I can't afford for that to happen. So today, I'm at the subway. It's not ideal. Actually, I hate the subway more than anything else. The people are in a hurry, frazzled, running late, and have no patience. It's directly underground which makes it cold but not as cold as the actual outdoors, which is a bonus. And there are cameras. Everywhere. There are cameras at the malls, too, but you'd be surprised in how much more security there is at the subway than the mall when it comes to cameras. They've got you from every angle.

To pickpocket successfully, you have to be in a really crowded space. I sit by the benches near the subway tracks because every half hour there is huge crowds. I only get to pickpocket twice a day here, though, because I don't want to raise suspicions. Mostly, I'm a beggar. Sometimes, to amuse myself, I pretend to be a mime. I have a shirt that's in stripes and white makeup in my backpack. I'm terrible, but you'd be surprised how many people want something strange and exciting to happen to them.

I begin to settle down for some sleep after stealing some guy's keys and four dimes. I dropped the keys on the floor in the crowd.

I put my glasses on my face, when suddenly I see him. _Darien_. He is standing there in his expensive coat with some coffee in his hands, looking like he's bored. I can't stop the smile on my face. Show time.

I get up, and sling my bag over my shoulder. Then I quietly approach him. He's staring at the tracks, waiting for his subway to take him wherever it is he's going.

I'm bad at pickpocketing? Please. I'll teach him.

I reach slowly into his right pocket and smile when I grasp his wallet. Slowly, I withdraw it from inside his pocket, making sure I don't make any sudden movement.

It's almost out of his pocket when his hand grasps my wrist and I drop it back in and curse.

"Again? Who is it this- ah, pickpocket girl." His grin makes me mad. This time, I do kick him in the shins. "Ow! What was that for?" He begins doing this thing where he holds his shin with one hand and hops on the other leg. His coffee spills out onto his free hand and he curses. I crack a small smile.

"I wanted to see you in pain."

"Look, you, I don't know who you are or why you're following me-"

"Following you?"

"-but you really need to stop doing that. I'm on my way home for the holidays, and you keep showing up everywhere! Now, please, where do you live? Do you need a ride back? Money for a plane ride home? Are you some runaway or something?"

I drew my bangs from my eyes in exasperation, and watched as his eyes widened at the crescent shaped scar on my forehead. I had gotten it when I was eighteen after I decided I hated my job and got drunk and quit. Some ghetto chick thought it would be funny. I squeezed my eyes shut from the memory. "I don't have family, and I don't need your help or your money."

"Well, then why are you going around picking people's – _my_ – pockets?"

Just then, a rush of wind hit us, and we both stepped back from the tracks as the subway whizzed by us. We waited one minute in silence, watching this great force of machine screech and grind to a stop. The smell of exhaust hit the air, and I wrinkled my nose against it. The doors opened and people around us began flooding in.

Darien grabbed my wrist and began to drag me in with him.

"What are you doing? Are you crazy? Let go of me. You're kidnapping me!" I tried to slap his hand away.

"Look, kid, I'm not letting you go around the streets by yourself. It's either you go with me now for me to figure out what to do with you, or I'm calling the police and reporting your little attempts."

I grit my teeth. "Yeah, and then what are you going to do with me?" Despite my protests, he managed to squeeze me into the car as the automatic doors shut closed.

"I don't know. Call child services?"

"I'm 19!"

"You don't look it."

"Yeah, well I am."

We stood in silence as the car began to move. It had gotten quiet in here since everyone had settled down, and we were the only ones still standing. He must have realized this, too, since he took my hand and led me to the back, where the red seats weren't occupied. We both sat down, me leaning away from him. Now that we had both calmed down and I was sitting this close to him, I couldn't help but notice that he smelled of dark coffee and chocolate. I wasn't sure if I liked or hated it.

He sighed. "So what's your name?"

I bit my lip to keep from replying. He kidnapped me. Why would I give up my name to him?

Ugh I'm an idiot. If he had found out that I had pickpocketed him the first time, then pickpocketed me – ish, why on Earth did I think I could pickpocket him? I was delusional. This situation was ironic.

"No name? So what, should I call you pickpocket girl?"

Again, I didn't respond.

"Look, I won't give you in to child services. But I will help you." Aside, he mumbled, "Now I just need to figure out what to do with you."

"I heard that! And I don't need your help. I've been fine on my own this whole time, and this little trip is just a set back."

"Ah! She speaks."

I grunt at him.

He sighed. "It's a long trip to where I'm headed."

"Don't worry, I'm getting off at the next stop."

"Oh, no you're not. You don't want to go to the police, do you?"

"That's terrible, you know."

"What?"

"Using someone's fears to make threats to your advantage. It's sick."

That quieted him down for a little while. "I told my friend I would help someone before the year ended. You keep showing up. It's a sign. For all the money I have, I don't use it. He was right. If someone else could use it better that I can, then I'm willing to give it."

I scoffed. "So, what, do you plan to make me your charity case? Not interested, Bob."

"It's Darien."

"I know." How could I not? The note he had written me was burning a hole through my jean pocket.

He ran a hand through his hair. Then he did it again, with more force. "Where did you get your scar?"

I pressed my lips firmly together, and tilted my head back. An automatic voice came over the intercom, announcing our next stop.

"Alright, picky topic. How did you become homeless?"

I glared at him. "Hey, Dare-bear?"

He gave me a weary look. "Yeah?"

"Silence is golden."

He stayed quiet for all of two seconds. "We're heading to Halifax, if you were wondering."

"I wasn't, and we aren't going to Halifax, you are."

The subway stopped and the door slid open. I started to get up when he grabbed the strap of my backpack and pulled me back. He took hold of my wrist and held on tight.

"Let go of me."

A new set of passengers began appearing, while two or three disappeared.

"Nope."

The doors closed and we were on the move again.

"I could scream right now. I could scream that you're kidnapping me."

He took out his phone and started scrolling through it. Then he turned around and took a picture. The flash blurred my eyes, and made me agitated.

"What did you do?"

"I took a picture. You scream now and I'll show the police your picture later."

"Remember that talk we had about how horrible it is to use people's fears against them?"

He laughed. "I've never been a saint."

I sighed, realizing I wasn't going to get away from here. Oh well… it would be nice to relocate. Visit Halifax… But I kind of liked my place. The three malls and the subway were really close by to each other. I could walk there during the night. I had the pattern drilled into my head. It was perfect!

I took my bag off and put it between Darien and me. Then I kicked my legs up the other way and leaned my head against the backpack and fell asleep. I was dead tired, and the fight was lost. Might as well just go along for the ride.

**TBC**

**A/N:**_ Enjoy, you guys! I'll try to update tomorrow, too. Review, and please have a very happy and safe New Years!  
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	3. Kidnapped, Annoyed, and Couponed

**A/N:** _So... unexpectedly busy. :p Gonna update this now while I've got the chance. :p  
><em>

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Sailor Moon or anything to do with it. This story is a figment of my imagination._

**Summery:**_ She likes being alone. She is, after all, the best pickpocket girl ever. Or so she tells herself. Then, one pickpocket trick goes wrong, and she's suddenly visiting Halifax for the holidays with overly cheery Darien. And she learns the hard way that getting under his skin is not easy, but he seems to be doing a great job getting under hers and into her heart.  
><em>

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><p><strong>The Pickpocket Gir<strong>

**Chapter 3**

I think I slept for three hours or so when he woke me up.

"Hey, pickpocket girl, we're changing subways now."

I sat up groggily and rubbed my face with my hands, and took the sunglasses off. The light in the subway was dull, but I still squinted against the light.

"Another subway?" I mumbled.

"Yeah," he grinned. "We take that one for forty minutes, then one more for maybe two hours or so, and then we take a taxi to my place."

"Oh. Great."

I was still tired. I felt it in every bone and muscle in my bony, begging me to just slow down and take a nap, but my mind was racing with a million thoughts and I doubted that I could sleep through them.

The subway began to slow down, and a bunch of people got up and started to make their way towards the doors. Darien got up and took my bag, but I took it from him and slung it over my shoulder. "Don't touch my bag."

He laughed. "I should have known. Most girls are worried that someone might touch their hair and ruin it."

"I'm not most girls," I mumbled, even as I reached up with my hand to push my hair behind my ear.

The subway came to a stop, and the doors breathed open, and I felt Darien's hand around my wrist, leading me out the door. "You know, I'm not going to run off. We're too far from my area for me to be able to just hop on a subway or a bus and ride there alone and know where I'm going."

He laughed again. "Yeah, right, you keep on trying. I'm not one to be fooled easily."

He took me to the subway schedule board and looked for our next subway. "Alright, so we have to wait maybe five minutes for that one, but we'll have to run for our next one because it pulls up about a minute after ours."

"And what if ours is late?"

"Let's hope it isn't."

"And if it is?"

He sighed. "The next one to pull out heading in that direction is in four hours."

"Four hours?"

He grinned. "Let's hope we're on time."

He pulled me to the next stop, and we both sat down on the bench to wait. When the next subway pulled up, we got in and sat down in the back again.

"So what's your name, pickpocket girl?"

I sighed and opened my bag and took out a bit of chocolate wrapped in foil. I broke off a piece and popped it in my mouth to melt, wrapping the rest of it back in foil and putting it in my bag. I resisted the urge to moan at how amazing it really was. Chocolate? Comfort food? Definitely.

"Wow, you really like chocolate, don't you?"

I let the rest of it melt before I replied. "My family had been poor before the… well, anyway, my dad, he loved chocolate. Usually we bought our food and rationed it throughout the week when for others it would probably last a day or two. Sometimes, he would put on extra hours when he was up to it, and he would buy himself, my mom, and me giant chocolate bars. We would sit down around our kitchen table, drink tea and savor it, while my parents recited old stories of when I was a kid." I laughed at the memory. It was probably my favorite. "I used to know those stories backwards and forwards. I still do. I just liked hearing them."

He nodded slowly. "That sounds nice."

I stretched and grabbed my glasses again, putting them on. "It was. Now do you mind?"

I pretended to sleep. He seemed to know, but didn't say anything. The ride dragged on forever before we finally pulled up and he shook me awake.

My mind snapped back. I had managed to doze off lightly somewhere along the ride. I stood up and grabbed my bag, and he grabbed my wrist. "We're running for this one."

We pushed our way lightly to the front of the crowd, where the doors were. The subway slowed down, and then stopped, and when the doors opened Darien sprinted and I had no choice but to follow. We got there as the people were getting on. We got on just as the doors closed. He sighed in relief. "Made it!"

I took the sunglasses still on my face and pushed them up onto my head and headed to the back. There was an elderly couple sitting there, talking. I sat down next to the old guy, and Darien sat down next to me. I glared at him. "That place is for my bag."

He shrugged.

"Go sit over there," I pointed to some seats a few people away from me.

He didn't budge.

Finally, I sighed and gave up. Fine, if he wanted to sit, he could sit. But I wasn't going to. I got up and began to make my way to where the seats I pointed to were, but he grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled me back.

The elderly couple were watching us by now, eyes wide. It annoyed me that they had been listening. I put my bag down on the ground, hoping it didn't get too infested with whatever was down there, and hissed through my teeth, "You're paying to wash that bag."

"Gladly. If you give me your name."

He was so frustrating!

I was too restless to even pretend to sleep now. Jogging here and fighting with him had woken me up. I slipped the glasses into my bag and reached into my pocket to look through change. I had collected the four dimes, a nickel from some lady on the last subway, and a coupon for soap. I put the money into the secret pocket of my bag, and zipped it up.

He grinned. "Successful day?"

"No," I grumbled. "Here, you can get 15% off your next soap bar if you spend $40 or more on their other brand soap bars."

He laughed. "I'm good, thanks."

We all sat awkwardly, staring ahead for some time. The old couple was obviously eavesdropping.

"So, ah, what's your name?"

I growled deep in my throat. "Will you stop asking me already?"

"Not until you tell me."

"Save your breath. I'm never going to tell you."

"Fine. You'll tell me when you fall madly in love with me."

"Which is never. I'll never fall in love." Love hurts, and I didn't need anyone to be happy. I was happy.

"Ah, but don't be too sure about that."

I stared out the window as we moved through the outdoors, watching as random mountains and trees whooshed by us.

"Where did you get the scar?"

I picked up my bag and hit him with it. He was laughing. Why was he laughing?

"You know, you're cute when you're angry."

"Oh, save it for the sluts who go for that stuff."

"What stuff? I just said you're cute."

"Yeah, and I bet that line usually works on girls, huh? Not me, buddy, so just lay off. I want to go home."

He was trying not to laugh. I could tell. Why was he so happy? It made me want to make him miserable.

"Who's a pouty face?"

"Will you quit it? How old are you?"

But it had made me grin. I know it did. And he saw.

"A few years over five."

"What? Nine? Yeah, I can tell."

"Do you like oranges?"

"Hmm?"

He leaned in close, his hot breath fanning my ear. "Do you like oranges?"

"Yeah," I said, trying not to back up.

He leaned back into his seat. I resisted the urge to shudder. Was it cold in here?

"I'll get you some."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. When we get to where we're heading and drop off our stuff at the apartment, I'll take you out to dinner and then get you some oranges."

"I'm not dating you."

"I never said it was a date."

"When you say 'out to dinner' it implies a date."

"No, it doesn't."

I growled. "You're impossible!"

I ignored him for the rest of the ride. It was easy, since he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. Finally, our stop was announced, and I grabbed my bag and felt his hand around my wrist again. Figures. Even in Halifax he thought I'd run off.

Smart guy. I would have.

As we were stepping off, I took out the change I had slowly taken from the old guy's pocket and counted it: a five dollar bill, a penny, a quarter, a receipt for some imported stamps, and a lottery ticket. I dropped the receipt and lottery ticket near the door they had probably entered from.

"When did you manage to get those?" Darien asked.

I grinned. "I was bored and the old guy next to me was annoying. But it's ok, I already paid him back."

"How's that?"

"I gave him the coupon."

**TBC**

**A/N:**_ thanks for reading! tell me what you think!  
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	4. Guess and Dine

**A/N:** I just remembered I actually posted this onto FanFiction XD I forgot I did that. :p LOL_  
><em>

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Sailor Moon or anything to do with it. This story is a figment of my imagination._

**Summery:**_ She likes being alone. She is, after all, the best pickpocket girl ever. Or so she tells herself. Then, one pickpocket trick goes wrong, and she's suddenly visiting Halifax for the holidays with overly cheery Darien. And she learns the hard way that getting under his skin is not easy, but he seems to be doing a great job getting under hers and into her heart.  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>The Pickpocket Girl<strong>

**Chapter 4**

Darien was walking in circles behind me, talking to some cleaning lady on the phone and thanking her for cleaning the place up and restocking the fridge as he'd asked. I was staring out his ginormous window, watching as the snowflakes hit the clean glass.

His apartment was very spacious. He had a big living room with an adjacent kitchen. Then there was the hallway that had a storage closet, a bedroom, and a bathroom. And everything was squeaky clean and looked like a shot out of a furniture magazine.

I went to the kitchen and washed my hands, and then walked back and pressed my wet palms against the shining glass window, making terrible smudges. I stepped back to admire my work, deciding that I liked it. It looked like two turkeys talking to each other. I smudged the thumbs a bit to make it look like heads, and wiped my palms on my jeans.

"Yes, yes. It looks ama-zing…" I turned to see Darien gaping at the smudged glass. "No, no, everything's fine just had a bit of a shock here… Oh, no, you got the right cheese. You did perfect. And the glass looks… amazing. Yes. You cleaned those windows really well. Yeah, well, bye now. Merry Christmas. Happy New Year. Yeah, thanks. Bye." He hung up the phone and came to stand beside me. "Are those turkeys?"

I grinned and cocked my head ninety degrees. "Yup. You like turkeys?"

He was trying hard not to grin. I hadn't expected him not to be mad. "Yeah, I like turkeys. Hey, you want to go out for dinner now?"

I hadn't eaten since yesterday when I had used some of the ten dollar bill to get myself some donuts and a cup of coffee. So yeah, I wanted some dinner.

He took me to this little fast food place near his building.

"They have the best chilli I had ever tasted. And pretty good lasagna. Their desserts aren't bad, either. And you should taste their sweet chicken! They have this awesome sauce that comes with it that you can dip it into, and it's just great you should try it."

We slipped into a booth and he flagged down a waitress. Then he ordered some chilli and lasagna for me and for himself and the sweet chicken, along with some lemon pie.

I gaped at him. "I'm not going to be able to finish all of that."

He was smiling across the table from me, playing with a napkin from the napkin dispenser in the middle of the table. "Yeah, neither will I, but this stuff is amazing. It would be a sin not to try it."

Despite myself, I ended up smiling at him.

"So, pickpocket girl, am I allowed to know your name now?"

I shook my head at him.

"No? I didn't think so. Well, since you're not going to let up information easy, let's play a game."

"A game?"

"Yeah. I'll guess your name, and you'll tell me whether I'm close or not."

"That doesn't sound like a very fun game," I mumbled.

A waitress came and gave us each some lasagna. Darien instantly reached over for some grated cheese bits on the side and sprinkled them all over. Then he did the same to mine. I wrinkled my nose. The lasagna looked full of cheese as it was.

"Try it."

I picked up a fork and broke off some lasagna and popped it into my mouth. It tasted odd. The cheese exploded in the background against the slightly spicy taste of the lasagna.

"Is it supposed to be spicy?"

"No, but they make it like that. Now, let's play. Is it… Diana?"

I made a face at him.

"Yeah, you don't look like a Diana." He spooned a few forkfuls into his mouth before he spoke again, "Ariadne?"

I laughed. "No."

"Is it a short name or a long name?"

"How long is a long name?"

"I'd say about seven letters?"

"How long is a short name?"

"Three or four letters."

"Well, then I have a long name."

Darien nodded as if I had let go of a big secret, then shoveled some more food into his mouth. I took another bite of my lasagna.

"So," he said, "long name? Those are always the hardest. Is it a name that's popular?"

I shrugged. "How would I know?"

"You should at least tell me the first letter."

I frowned and took another bite of my lasagna. It was good.

He sat in silence, thinking for a while. We both finished our food just as the waitress came by with some chilli. I was full. She set them down in front of us, and took our plates from the lasagna.

"Ok, is it Jeremiah?"

"Nope."

"Am I close?"

"Not even."

"Does it start with an S?"

I sampled some chilli. I was surprised to find that I liked it. It was a bit smoky, too, somehow, and sweet and sour at the same time. What kind of a place was this?

"Pickpocket girl sits in silence for too long. Your name does start with an S, doesn't it? Alright. Sarah?"

"No."

"I'll guess your name yet. Sophie? Sierra? Snooki?"

I made a face at him. "Snooki?"

"Yeah. What, you don't like it? Troubled, but forever tanned, star? No?" He grinned at me, taking a bit out of his chilli. "Fine, how about Sooki?"

"I'm done with this game," I mumbled. Then I looked down at my half eaten chilli. "I'm done with this, too."

"You didn't like it?"

"Oh, no, I did. I just can't fit it."

He nodded, and took a few spoonfuls of his chilli before flagging down the waitress. "We'll take the rest of her chilli, and the lemon pie, and sweet chicken to go."

She nodded. "Would you like anything else?"

"No, thank-you."

"Alright, I'll be right back with your check."

I pushed the plate of chilli away from me slowly. It was too tempting. I could eat another hundred pounds of the stuff, but Darien was making me uncomfortable. I would thank him, and then quietly slip out and find my way back to my area.

"You don't eat much?"

I looked up at him, watching me like I was a puzzle he just couldn't solve. "I eat plenty."

"Plenty?"

"Yeah. Plenty."

The waitress returned with the bill and our orders, and put it all on the table. "Will you be paying cash or credit?"

"Cash," he said.

I took the bill before he could. All together, the food had cost him $50. "I'll pay," I said.

"What?" he sounded surprised. "No, you don't have to."

I took his wallet out of my coat pocket and brought it out into full view. I know he saw it, because he laughed and sat back in his chair. "Alright, you can pay."

I leafed through his bills until I found a hundred-dollar bill, and handed it to her. "Keep the change."

She thanked us and wished us a good day, before walking away with wide eyes. She was holding the hundred dollar bill like she couldn't believe it was in her hands.

We both got up and Darien grabbed the food. I dropped his wallet back into his coat pocket.

"Why, aren't you a good tipper," he said.

"Just giving back to the community," I replied. "Speaking of community, it's Christmas Eve tomorrow."

"Yeah, and?" he asked. We got to the car he had rented and stuffed all the food in there before getting in. He didn't start the engine.

"You don't have a tree. Or decorations."

He turned to face me in his driver's seat. "Does it bother you?"

I was looking out the window. "I just thought, if you're going to celebrate it you should do it right."

"Yeah, but I usually leave after New Year, so I don't want to be putting stuff away."

I shrugged. "So you come here, all on your own, spend your days doing nothing to celebrate, then go back? Well, have it your way."

"Not all alone. Andrew and his girlfriend Reika live here. He owns an Arcade and usually he throws a party there."

I didn't comment.

"Alright, fine." The engine started and he backed out from the driveway.

"Fine what?"

"We're going to The Dicken's Place."

He was referring, of course, to the farm that sold Evergreens every winter.

I laughed. "Perfect."

**TBC**

****A/N:****_ thanks for reading! tell me what you think!_**  
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